


you heart-stealing little shIT-

by orphan_account



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Bullshitery, Denial, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Humorous Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Not Ashamed, I'm Sorry, Language, M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self-Denial, Swearing, Tom is filled with denial lmaooo, Why Did I Write This?, ahaha i love them, but not, idk - Freeform, kinda just bs this at 3am like an month ago, lmao bye, lololololol, no beta we die like men, shut up and read if you looked this far into the tags, sprinkle of angst bros, the yearning, tom being an asshole back, tord being an asshole, tord has accepted his doom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tom is having conflicting feelings about Tord. Aka the devil. Aka the Bastard. Aka the Commie....it keeps going on and on andon....
Relationships: Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	you heart-stealing little shIT-

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me over here. The ending rushed and is shit.

_“ Tom. “_ Tord pointedly grunted out at the black eyed man, leveling him with a ruby glare that could probably melt a mountain into a useless pile of dust and rubble.

Wait no, that’s not right, - It could probably melt a fucking _planet_ into a floating useless pile of dust and rubble, drifting through space.

It could probably make a man freeze in his tracks, and piss his fucking pants, run away, fucking terrified down to the red cells in the marrow of his bones. 

Heck, if someone utilized the power of the red eyed m- Tord’s glare, they could probably use it to power the whole _planet_ for several thousand years. 

Fuck it all, with that glare the dude could probably look all the World leaders™ in the eye and demand World Peace™ and they would immediately agree, cowering on their knees like the cowards they are, whimpering and crying for him not to hurt their families. 

And yet, Tom, “the black eyed man”, didn’t give _any_ semblance of giving _any_ shits.

In fact, he was gonna keep that pile of - disgusting, god awful smelling, absoultely revolting, probably ridden with diseases - shits all to himself, thank you _very_ fucking much. 

_“ Tord. “_ he grunted, glaring right back with his void-like orbs, sick and tired of the red-eyed man blaming him for everything.

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed. 

He didn’t do it! Gosh darn it why was this so hard for him to grasp the concept that not everything was his fault!?

A piece of bacon was missing from his plate, and suddenly he goes _“ Tooom, give back the bacon right now, or I’ll make you regret it! “_ Fucking hell, it wasn’t him! He was just trying to eat his fucking burned toast in peace! Why is that so hard to understand?! They argued verbally in the kitchen until they _inevitably_ pulled down their sleeves and started fist-fighting. Edd just drank his cold cola infused coffee in the background, tired, far too used to this for his own good.

It turned out to be Matt who stole the piece of bacon.

And Tord didn't even argue with him!

Tord just muttered an “ It’s fine, Matt. “ before sighing, patting Matt's head, (Matt complaining about how Tord had messed up his hair) and turning to his room, bruises and all.

Not even an apology.

Tom doesn’t know what the hell is with this dude, but he sure as hell is a Mega Asshole Supreme™.

Or the actual human reincarnation of Satan himself.

That would explain the hair horns.

_( And the pretty ruby-red eyes._

_Wait no- not pretty- )_

Or maybe he’s the son of Satan, or probably his cousin? 

Or- y’know what? It doesn’t matter, because this mega asshole just messed with the wrong kind of asshole.

Him. 

-

The next day, Edd and Matt decided to go shopping at the fancy new mall near the house.

And of course, _of course,_ the naive idiot decided to leave him and Tord in the same vicinity.

Just _what_ was wrong with him? He knew what would happen _every single time_ he and Tord were alone! Were the thirty-six incidents not enough? Did he want another one?

_Sigh._

He’ll just have to deal with it.

-

Tord has been abnormally quiet today.

No annoying Tom today? There’s got to be something _up._

Like seriously up. Up as the sky. Up as space. Up as the _moon._

No like, no matter how angry or sad or depressed Tord is, he would-- _could_ never resist an opportunity to hit, annoy, or basically make Tom mad in general in his _life_ , so what’s stopping him now?

_What the_ **_fuck_ ** _is stopping him????_

He just looked tired, eyebags weighing against his face while staying so fucking _silent_ that Tom could just _rip his fucking hair out and_ -

_Seriously,_ just what is it? Tom was getting _worrie_ \- _Nope_ , he was not. Absolutely not. _But_ \- no.

_But he wouldn’t even make eye contact with him!!!_

_So?_ Isn’t it better that he wouldn’t even look in his direction? Don’t I _hate_ him?

_But!! --_

**_No._ ** _Shut up._

_But!!!! -_

**_Shut. up._ **

_B_ **_U-_ **

**_“_ ** _Sunshine, Lollipops, and rainbows-_ **_“_ **

_The obnoxious ringtone rang around the room, grating on his already frayed nerves, making him just wish that the universe would take a slice of his beautifully baked cake of bad luck and just serve a piece to whoever was **calling**_ **_-_ **

He quickly snatched his phone from his nightstand, hoping not to crush it with his anger and abnormally strong hands.

He gritted out an angry, _“ Yes? “_ Ok _look,_ he just wasn’t in the mood alright?

_“ Hiya Tom! “_ a cheery voice responded.

_“ Edd? “_ He questioned, before shifting a bit.. _“ Why are you calling? Aren’t you supposed to back by now? “_ he quipped tiredly, still a little bit pissed off about Tord.

_“ Well…. “_ Oh no. Edd you _didn’t-_

_“ Okay, okay okay okay- “ He inhaled slowly, like he knew it was going to be his last peaceful moment breathing. “ I know what you’re thinking. “_

_“ You_ ** _better._ ** _“_

_“ Ok so we met some guy on the road back- He said he was related to Matt??? - and Matt insisted to go with him and we’re having a sleepover and- “_

He groaned inwardly. _Fucking Matt._

_He sighed._

_“ You owe me. “_

_And he hung up._

_He groaned, and flopped on his bed._

_Great. More time with the commie._

-

Okay, fuck, shit, he hadn’t seen this coming. 

He _really_ hadn’t seen this coming.

Tord. The Fucking Bitch Asshole Supreme™.

He’s brash, annoying, angry, loves guns, hentai, bacon, and laughs like a dorky jerk.

He loves annoying Tom so much so that he blames him for stuff he _didn't_ do.

He calls Tom an ‘old friend’ despite having only known each other for about a year.

He also calls Tom by his full name more often than not, which is aggravating within itself.

If you gave him the wonderful nickname ‘Asshole’, he would wink, smirking like he had just fooled the devil himself, and reply snidely, _“ Exactly sweetie. “_ Which is just stupid. Mhm. _very_ stupid.

He pretty much was the definition of the words “ Devil incarnate “ and he was _living_ it.

He also has a stupid accent.

And here Tom was, holding a blue permanent marker, ready to scribble insults all over Tord’s face, - He was thinking of _‘blame yourself sometimes, you dick.’_ \- when the hair-horned man suddenly burst into tears, thrashing about, crying out for help, pleading in Norwegian, begging for-

_“ Thomas please!...no...NO! nononno- “ Tord gasped out, his tears soaking his pillow, back arching in apparent pain. His caramel locks were being pulled harshly by his own hands, messing up his signature ‘devil horns‘ hairstyle._

He was calling out Tom’s name.

Wait _what?_

_Tom’s name!?_

_“ Tom...please…” Tord begged._

Ok, excuse Tom out of his mind for a moment, _what the fuck?_

_Like, What the actual fuck?!_

Tom quickly backed out of the room, the Norski’s pleading getting louder with every minute that was passing by.

_( He sounds terrified. )_

Tom slid down the wall next to Tord’s door and lazily sat on the cold wooden floor, giving the neighboring wall a dull stare.

Ok, let’s assess the situation here:

First, why he was here in the first place.

Right, right, revenge.

He wanted to see how Tord was like when it was _actually_ his fault.

If he actually did the things Tord claimed him to be doing.

He wanted to piss him off.

Second, he knew Tord wasn’t faking it. He wasn’t the kind of guy that did these kinds of things for shits and giggles.

_( For some reason. Tom didn’t actually know why Tord didn’t do that kind of stuff for shits and giggles. )_

That’s the revelation here, _He wasn’t faking it._

_Shit._

_Moving on._

_Third,_ why was he apologizing to him specifically _?_ Why was the infamous self-proclaimed _‘ Tom’s official bully ‘_ crying out apologies to _him_ of all people?

_( With how loud Tord’s sobbing is, Tom really, really, really doesn’t want to know. )_

A loud - drawn out, piercing, _horrified_ \- scream.

He wasn’t sure he could even recognize Tord’s voice.

He sounded like someone else crying for help.

He sounded like someone else begging for him to come back.

He sounded like someone else crying, sobbing, _pleading_ for him not to go.

_( Thank the god he doesn’t believe in that Matt and Edd aren’t here. )_

The loud crying suddenly stopped.

Tom heard Norwegian curses being thrown about, sniffling, and some shuffling sheets.

Tom bolted straight to his room, scampered on his bed like an animal, quickly wrapping himself under the thick blue sheets, before Tord could even see him _that_ close to _his room._

He would _kill_ him.

He laid there, stiff as a board, straight as a metal pipe, still as a cannon ready to shoot, whatever that saying was supposed to mean when he heard his own door open slightly.

_Oh shit did he hear him? Was he actually faking it? Does Tom have to move to another house? Get a job? Fuck does he-_

He stopped his train of thought and hurried it to the nearest station once he had felt Tord tug _slowly,_ almost _shyly_ at his bedsheets.

He quickly closed his eyes and tried to make himself look at least _actually_ asleep.

_“ Tom? “_ Tord whispered softly, his voice horse from all the yelling and crying.

(He sounds fragile like he would break any second like he himself would turn into a piece of glass and just explode into a million little pieces if you ever thought about anything that even implies that Tom was gone. Dead. _rotting like the corpse he would be in his grave._ )

He sounds _nothing_ like himself.

Tom feels like he’s been _privileged_ to the _extent of royalty_ to even _hear_ that voice.

His train of thought just crashed.

The only thing that answers the Norski is Tom’s forced-to-be-slow breathing.

_(Seriously, he can’t take more of this shit.)_

_“ Oh thank faen…. “_ He hears Tord mutter before he almost jolted upwards and blew his cover as Tord sat down on his bed.

_His bed._

Was he used to this or _what?_

_His train of thought is now in a crashed, crumpled pile of rubble in his mind-space._

Tord just continued to lay down on _his bed ( Tom still can’t get over that )_ humming a tune under his breath, mumbling a few pieces of the song's lyrics so quietly that Tom thought that he might be imagining all of this.

_He might be. It was plausible. Very plausible actually. Possible even. Was this all just a dream? He hoped so._

Tord suddenly stood up, _( startling Tom, almost blowing his cover yet again, )_ and turned to face Tom, a soft smile on his face that Tom couldn’t see.

_If_ Tom could see that smile, he would immediately ask who Tord stole it from.

But what happened next, would probably etch itself into Tom’s memory forever.

He could practically feel it melting into his brain like hot lava.

Tord quickly pecked him on his forehead, _multiple times,_ like five times or something-- Tom couldn’t be bothered to be paying attention.

Because his brain was on one thought and thought only;

**_What. the Actual. FUCK. WAS_ ** **_THAT._ **

He almost slapped the imposter in the face and demanded it to tell him where Tord was, and why _the fuck_ did it just _kiss_ him.

Instead of blowing his cover, he continued having a mental crisis in silence.

_Not. worth. it._

_(don’tblushdon’tblushddon’tblushdon’tblushdon’tblushdon’tblush-_ **_DON’T BLUSH.)_ **

Tord chuckled, and _no it’s not funny you bastard-_

He fixed the sheets so they weren’t twisted around his body hastily, but instead laying around him comfortably. Tord then fluffed up his pillow a bit, and _oh god he was having an existential crisis here-_

Finally, Tord and his gentle hands backed off, his body heading towards the door to leave, and boy Tom thought it was _over-_

_“ Goodnight Tom,”_ ok, _ok,_ he just said goodnight that’s fine- “ _**I**_ ** _love you._ ** _“_ Tord whispers softly out into the cold air of his room, And _boy was Tom done with this hallucination fuck-_

Tord closed the door.

Tom opened his void-like eyes, wide.

**_THE. FUCK. WAS. THAT._ **

_This was a drunk dream, Tom chuckled internally._

_It’s got to be._

_This couldn’t have happened._

_(Then why did it feel so_ **_real-)_ **

_Nope, shut up._

_He’ll go to sleep and all of this will be over._

_Yeah._

_Yeah._

_It's all just a dream._

_(It’s got to be, or else Tom is going to have to face his feelings sooner than later.)_

_Tom fell asleep reluctantly._

-

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, not sorry. >:^)
> 
> ( i can't look at this work anymore.  
> sorry.)


End file.
